


Just Watch. Just Feel

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [33]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom/sub, Established Relationship, HP: EWE, M/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:03:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompt: It helped somehow, not being in control.





	Just Watch. Just Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Anon, on my nsfw sideblog

It helped somehow, not being in control. Held down by the heavy weight of a hand between his shoulder blades, and not having to do anything but kneel there. Not having to decide what would happen at each moment. Just kneel, and feel the steady thrust of a cock inside him, and know that everything would be decided for him, and all he had to do was give over to it.

That, for once, no one expected him to know and do everything. That no one expected him to be everything. No one expected him to be the perfect lover, in control of every moment, and fulfilling every fantasy and desire.

That he could just ignore the loud parts of himself that railed against being told to do anything, and just not fight it. That he could give in to the quieter, lost part of himself that just wanted to be shown the way, and be lead there without all the work.

“Turn over.”

Whimpering at the loss of sensation that accompanied the words, Harry turned over and settled on his back without hesitation, and looked up at Bill looming over him, breathing just as heavily as he was.

“Bind your hands above your head,” Bill said, shuffling forward, until his thighs were under Harry’s, and his arse was lifted up.

Shivering, Harry raised his arms over his head, and rested them against the bed. His wandless magic answered his call, and he felt the strong grip of silk around his wrists, and then the slight tug, as it was bound to the headboard.

Bill always made him bind himself, and it had been so hard to do, the first few times, to take that physical step in giving up freedom and control, but now it just got easier and easier.

“I’m going to finish before you, Harry,” Bill said, lining himself up, and pressing into him again. He was gripping Harry’s hips in a tight grip, keeping his arse lifted as he thrust into him. “And then you’re going to wait until I’m hard again, before you come.”

Harry threw his head back in a deep groan, as Bill resumed his previous pace, and every thrust filled him and sent bursts of pleasure radiating through him.

Waiting seemed like a horrible waste of time, but he didn’t have to worry about that. His time was Bill’s time for as long as he was there with him.

Lips brushed over his collarbone, as Bill leaned forward. “But I’m still going to touch you, Harry. You’re going to lie there, and let me pleasure you, with no way of reciprocating. But you won’t come. Not until I’m hard again, and we’re here again.”

Harry whimpered, and lifted his head, seeking. Bill met his lips, and pressed him back down. Harry moaned into his mouth, and tugged at the restraints he had bound himself with, wanting to touch. 

Years of being expected to take care of every person he took to his bed without thought for himself made his body tense. The idea of feeling pleasure but not giving any back set his stomach twisting. Even though he didn’t have to worry about that with Bill. Even though they had danced this dance before. 

“And you’re going to lie there, and take it, Harry,” Bill continued, lifting his head, and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Until I say you can unbind yourself. Until I say you can touch me again.”

Harry shivered, and relaxed back, watching Bill’s expression tighten, and listening to his grunts and moans deepen. The tone of his voice was firm, and unyielding. He’d have Harry lying there all night, coming again and again if Harry did something he wasn’t told to. And Harry would let him, as he had before, even though the sight of Bill being hard and doing nothing about it while he got Harry off again and again made his stomach twist with guilt. Because all Bill had to do was tell him to stop looking, to close his eyes, and he would, and it would get easier.

The freedom in that, in letting go, and letting someone else worry, and take charge, and give the pleasure, made him close his eyes against a deep throb of pleasure that travelled the length of his body. 

Bill didn’t always outline what he was going to do. Harry could never decide what he liked more. Being told everything before it happened was soothing, in its own way, as if he could argue, even though he wouldn’t. But being told nothing, nothing but to move this or that way, to do this, or that, without explanation, was scary and perfect in its own way too. Even if perhaps he should hate that the most.

But everything was up to Bill. Harry handed over complete and total control the moment he stepped through the door. He’d do anything. Without having to think. Without having to weigh up if it was right or wrong, or selfish, or too selfless.

All he had to do was lie there and enjoy what was happening, and to whatever he was told without question. And it always felt so good. Bill’s hands, his mouth, the stretch of his cock, and the dizzying pleasure of every single thrust.

“Open your eyes, Harry,” Bill moaned.

Harry obeyed without thought. He was met with a desperate, panting man on the brink of orgasm, and it sent shivers through him. However long Bill kept touching him after this without allowing reciprocation, Harry had still given him this.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, his own voice rough, and desperate. His own cock aching, and weeping.

Bill managed to grin, as he gripped Harry’s hips harder, and his body appeared to shake. “Nothing, Harry. Nothing. Just watch. Just feel.”


End file.
